Verse 1
I’ve got a crown made of caution tape and apologies,
Ripped my jeans—not for fashion, just crippling anxiety!
I’ll stage-dive into your DMs, then delete ‘em by dawn,
“Who’s that girl?” The one screaming “I DON’T BELONG!”

Pre-Chorus
I’ll start a revolution… (pause) …if I pick a side,
I’ll write a protest song—but wait, does this rhyme?
My battle cry’s a whisper drowned in Spotify plays,
“Yas, slay!” they chant—I’m just one nap away…

Chorus
LONG LIVE THE MESS in a leather jacket!
I’m the queen of self-doubt—oh, I MEAN punk!
I’ll kick your trash can, then apologize to it,
DIY halo, but the horns? Hell yeah, they’re stuck!
BREAKDOWN in 3… 2… (trails off) …maybe next week?
I’m the ruler of “Oops, did I say that out loud?!”
Bow down to my chaos—or don’t, I’m fine, actually…

Verse 2
I graffiti my diary on the bathroom stall,
“SMASH THE PATRIARCHY!” … but first, does this eyeliner smudge at all?
I’ve got a PhD in overthinking quiet parts,
My love song’s a mixtape titled “I’ll Ghost You Before It Starts!”

Pre-Chorus
I’ll crash the party… (pauses) …if I find the door,
Mosh pit of one—crying on the floor!
My manifesto’s just a Notes app rant,
“I’m iconic!” …italicized, in Comic Sans…

Chorus
LONG LIVE THE MESS in a leather jacket!
I’m the queen of self-doubt—oh, I MEAN punk!
I’ll kick your trash can, then apologize to it,
DIY halo, but the horns? Hell yeah, they’re stuck!
BREAKDOWN in 3… 2… (trails off) …maybe next week?
I’m the ruler of “Oops, did I say that out loud?!”
Bow down to my chaos—or don’t, I’m fine, actually…

Verse 3
I post “Eat the rich!” from my cracked iPhone 12,
Screen’s glitching like my morals—deep, right? Can’t you tell?!
My rage is a filter, my rants hella monetized,
“Smash the state!”… but first, let me hashtag-stylize…

Bridge
“I’m not like other girls—
I’m worse, with 37 unreplied ‘Are you mad at me?’ texts,
And a Spotify Wrapped that’s just Crywank mixed with Toxic Masculinity…
BUT HEY! At least my insecurities are a e s t h e t i c,
So pass the hair dye and validation—I’m fcking pathetic!*

Final Chorus
LONG LIVE THE MESS in a leather jacket!
I’m the queen of self-doubt—oh, I MEAN punk!
I’ll kick your trash can, then apologize to it,
DIY halo, but the horns? Hell yeah, they’re stuck!
BREAKDOWN in 3… 2… (trails off) …maybe next week?
I’m the ruler of “Oops, did I say that out loud?!”
Bow down to my chaos—or don’t, I’m fine, actually…

Outro
“Wait, did I say ‘queen’? Ugh, patriarchal, my bad—”
“I’m the anarcho-syndicalist collective of self-doubt!”
(Band crashes into dissonant finale, singer faux-tripping offstage.)